Page 73 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
Ciara froze.
A bed… with Magnus.
Her brain hadn’t made that jump initially, too excited about the possibility of lying down and drifting off to sleep. But the moment it became clear to her that she would be sharing a bed with her husband tonight, energy zinged back through her.
They slept in separate chambers at the castle, and Ciara had never shared a bed with anyone, save for her sister on a few occasions—but certainly never aman.
Their moment on the chaise during the cèilidh flashed in her mind, impossible to ignore. She felt phantom touches in all the places that his hands had explored. And that had been a few stolen moments on a chaise. What might it be like when they had a whole night together and abed?Maybe she’d finally get to see the Laird’s body in all its naked glory.
Anticipation and nerves coursed through her in tandem.
When there was a break in the conversation Magnus was having with the old man, she leaned towards him and gently put a hand on his arm. He pulled back and turned his attention to her… that heady attention.
“The parents of the boy from earlier offered us a… room for the night,” she whispered to him.
She had almost said bed, but her lips wouldn’t form the words.
Will he still want to stay when he realizes we’ll have to share a bed?
She just wouldn’t call attention to the fact. Besides, he didn’t need to know that him in bed was a recurring thought in her mind now. His large frame would take up so much of what was surely a small bed. She envisioned him lounging casually, his bare chest on display. Surely, he wouldn’t sleep in those clothes…
“Oh, thank God,” he groaned, interrupting her thoughts. “The thought of ridin’ back tonight…” He shuddered.
She smiled back at him, and he leaned away from her and back towards the crowd still gathered in the square.
With a nod at their last petitioner, he turned to address the villagers, who now all stared at him with something like respect in their eyes.
“Thank ye all for comin’ today. We appreciate the opportunity to learn from ye and to hear all that ye have shared with us. Ye all are the backbone of this clan, and yer work and sacrifices these last years are evident and valued. Thank ye.
“We ken ye’re weary and hurtin’, but we want to help bring this village and the clan back to its former glory. Back to somethin’ we can all be proud of. We have plans in the works already to bring in more people to help work the fields, and we will take all that we have discussed back with us and start makin’ some changes around here.”
Everyone clapped as Magnus finished his speech, and Ciara beamed at him. There was his heart, beating for his clan. There was the Laird she knew he could be.
* * *
Magnus could kiss his wife for calling an end to this day and for finding them a place to sleep. Well, he could always kiss her, but right now especially so. Once the villagers got over their initial resistance, it seemed like everyone had something they needed to talk about.
Finally, now they began to clear the square and head back to their homes for the night.
A successful day.
He waved to the older gentleman who had sealed their success. His approving handshake had made all the difference.
Public opinion was shifting in their favor, and it would only protect Ciara and make his Lairdship easier. More than that, though, Magnus wanted their people’s respect. He didn’t want to lead by fear the way his father had. He wanted to be remembered for his heart, not his cruelty.
Still, he had not expected the nonstop stream of villagers throughout the day.
Magnus didn’t grow up as a laird’s son, so he was more familiar with the problems of the villagers than most. His upbringing had not been significantly different from that of those he was now responsible for. But sometime in the last year, he’d grown accustomed to life in the castle and forgot about all that plagued the regular villager.
It was a stark reminder, but one he desperately needed. He didn’t want to be the kind of Laird, stuck in his ivory tower, who didn’t understand the plight of his people. Like his father was. If nothing else, today had shown him all the ways they were different. His father had never taken the time to be with his people on this level, preferring not to bother with the peasantry.
He heaved a sigh. He hoped there would be whiskey wherever they were heading for the night. He could really use a drink before he completely passed out.
He beckoned his man-at-arms over and ran him through a few things he wanted him to get started on back at the castle tomorrow.
Ewan had stood by all day, monitoring the crowd and the villagers. He was hesitant to leave them alone in the village for the night, but with assurances from Magnus, he loaded up his horse and began the journey back.
Ciara and the family from earlier were waiting for him when he finished, and numbly, Magnus followed the group. The young boy was smiling and singing as he swung between his parents. Apparently, his energy was boundless, and he was recovering well from his previous rejection.
